Aldric's hand caught her wrist mid-swing. The impact jarred through her arm, disrupting the Blade's grip. It clattered to the counter, scarlet light still pulsing from its edge like a heartbeat.
The joy vanished.
Marron fell to her knees. Her hand was shaking—no, her whole body was shaking. The kitchen floor was cold against her palms. When had she started breathing so hard?
She'd been about to kill Lucy.
Her companion. Her friend. The slime who'd stayed with her through everything, who'd glowed comfort in dark moments, who'd helped wash dishes and clean pots and never asked for anything more than a clean jar and occasional scraps of food.
And she'd been smiling.
"Get it away from me," Marron whispered. The words came out broken, each one a struggle. "Get it away, get it away, GET IT AWAY—"
